Shadowblade
by Thunderglaive21
Summary: His mission - kill her or bring her in. Simple right?
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Blood dripped down onto the floor from two wickedly sharp knives. The blades gleamed bright red in the moonlight, droplets of the liquid running down the metal. The owner of the knives glanced over her kill and raised a dark eyebrow. The four men lying dead on the ground all had several huge open wounds that were still oozing blood. Pools of the dark liquid gathered underneath the bodies, slowly merging into one spill. Their empty eyes stared straight ahead with the mouth opened in what could be described as shock.

The killer allowed herself one small grin at the sight of her handiwork. Then all emotions were swept away, locked into a tiny box. She bent down and wiped each knife across a black uniform to clear away the blood. Once done, the weapons were quickly sheathed inside her clothes, hidden away from the world. She cracked her knuckles, rolled her shoulders back, and kicked the nearest dead body out of her way.

No remorse for murdering the men lingered. No pity surfaced. The killer swept her mostly green eyes around, taking in every insignificant detail. The last time she hadn't checked her surroundings after a kill lead to another fight. A fight that ended with four dead uniformed men on the ground. She chuckled darkly, hands suddenly itching to whip out the knives and sink them into a warm chest. The way blood seeped out around her blade had always fascinated her.

Continuing on her merry way, the killer stuffed her hands deep into the front pockets of the overly large sweatshirt her other personality _insisted_ on always wearing. Now that the threat was gone, she was fairly certain she only had a limited time left. Her fingers found the hilts of her precious knives and began to softly stroke the leather covering.

She woke up with a gasp, heart pounding in fear. Her body shot upright, eyes quickly taking in her surroundings.

The room was small, with only a table pushed into the corner opposite of her and the bed she was currently on. A lone chair stood in the middle of the room, a black backpack resting across its back. Seeing the object sent relief filtering through her veins for a split second. Nothing seemed out of place.

She sighed and lowered her head into her hands, eyes squeezing shut. The dreams were becoming more and more vivid, each more violent and bloody than the last. The latest one, however, terrified her the most. She didn't know which was just a dream or maybe a memory. The blurring of reality and dreams haunted her. Sometimes she honestly swore she was losing her sanity, bit by tiny bit.

And maybe she was. Having her other personality made her question every memory and dream she could remember. It always made her sick to her stomach that some dreams were actually memories. She just hoped the latest dream was only that. A dream.

If only her feelings would listen. The gut-wrenching terror wouldn't fade.

Groaning, she opened her hazel eyes and dropped her arms. Worrying about it wouldn't change anything. All she could do was move on again and hope she hadn't caused too much damage already. Though she guessed this time she had screwed up royally and was gonna pay for it later.

The files weren't that informative. In fact all they said was that the killer was female and very dangerous. No hint about whereabouts. No clue to the identity of the killer. Nothing useful at all.

Clint Barton closed the files and rubbed his forehead. Director Fury certainly had given him an easy mission alright. All he had to do was find the killer, gather intelligence on said killer and then either bring her in or kill her himself. Simple right?

_Wrong,_ his brain snorted.

He tossed the files back on top of the desk he stood in front of. Agent Coulson eyed him with an expressionless face. Clint dipped his head slightly in a sign of respect before turning around to walk out of Coulson's office. When he was halfway through the doorway, Coulson called out one last instruction.

"You will be on your own and try not to get on the killer's radar."

A wary smile spread across his face. He didn't know if the last part was actual advice or Coulson's attempt at humor. Either way, Clint nodded to show he understood and departed through the door. He only had a day to prepare before being deployed and he wanted to shoot off some steam from his earlier brawl with another agent. Said agent had been getting on everyone's nerves, especially the females. Clint called it sexual harassment but it wasn't classified as such. Nevertheless, the agent was known for his rather _wondering_ hands in the presence of female agents.

Once Barton got to the archery range, he quickly set up a station and began to fire arrow after arrow. The motion was so familiar that his mind could go blank. His face became expressionless, body straight as a rod. His eyes remained on the target hundreds of yards away. Sweat slowly trickled down his back under the black shirt he wore.

His best friend and partner found him there a couple of hours later. She leaned against the wall and waited for him to notice her. When he finally put down his bow, Natasha walked up to where he was standing folding up his bow. Clint made no sound, only flicked his eyes up then back down. She decided to make the first move.

"I heard you had a… brawl." Natasha shook her head. Her partner merely raised an eyebrow. The spy shrugged her shoulders. "It gets around." Clint nodded then went to retrieve his arrows from the target.

Once his weapon was packed away safely, the two friends began to chatter back and forth while walking out of the archery range. Barton was glad Natasha didn't ask too many questions about his fight earlier. He wouldn't want to sick an enraged master spy on a newbie. Though that thought did bring a chuckle to his lips.

A sudden thought struck him. He stopped walking, making Natasha do a double take. Clint raised a finger to his temple, tapping against it thoughtfully. Natasha crossed her arms and continued to wait patiently.

Barton stared off in the distance. "Why is Fury so interested in this female killer?" He mused under his breath. "It's unlike him…" The thoughts unsettled him.

A tap on his shoulder brought him back to reality. He grinned sheepishly at the spy, rubbing a hand across the back of his head. She sighed, knowing he wasn't going to tell her until he was ready. Shaking her head, the agent continued on. Clint hurried to catch up, mind still wondering.

His assassin brain was picking apart what little information he had. For some reason, the mission was starting to get him excited. He couldn't wait to uncover the truth behind this troublemaker and Fury's interest. A grin spread across his face at the prospect.

This was gonna be fun.


	2. News

**No this is not a new chapter but I just wanted to inform you guys first.**

**Everyone who has been reading Shadowblade needs to know this - the story is going to be adopted by LightningMistress2113. Therefor, it will be deleted in about two months. Don't worry - the new author will take very good care of the fanfic. I've been working closely with her since the beginning on it please send your support to her other fics as well. Thank you!**


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